


5 Times Spock Went to Earth with Captain Kirk and Once He Didn't

by Domina_Temporis



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 02:06:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1287187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Domina_Temporis/pseuds/Domina_Temporis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What it says on the tin.  Five times Spock accompanied Captain Kirk to Earth, and one time he couldn't.  Mostly during the first-five year mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lieutenant Commander Spock made his way through the halls of Starfleet Command Headquarters, reminding himself that worry was a human emotion, but anticipation of discomfort was a valid concern for a Vulcan. Spock valued privacy and routine above all else. For the last eleven years, his world serving under Captain Pike on the Enterprise had been the most stable he’d ever known. Pike was an excellent commander for a Vulcan officer; reserved, practical, with the belief that professional distance, not casual friendship, was the way to run a starship. For a young Vulcan still unsure of himself in a human-majority organization like Starfleet, Pike was more than he’d ever hoped for. Spock had been able to learn and rise through the science ranks without depending on the “networking” his human colleagues seemed to value so much; remaining away from the ship’s social life. He’d never quite figured out how to breach the cultural barrier, and in truth, found he was somewhat unwelcome outside work hours. His life on the Enterprise was satisfying, if somewhat solitary, but it suited him well enough. 

But now, with Captain Pike’s promotion to Commodore and Fleet Commander, Spock was in the center watching everything change around him. Most of the crew was leaving with the captain, with new crewmembers joining once they reached Earth. Dr. Piper would be staying for the next year only, to help the transition go smoothly before retiring. The only other member of the senior staff who was staying on besides Spock himself was Mr. Scott in Engineering. To be disconcerted about this was illogical; Spock knew transfers were common, and the Enterprise had already completed two five-year missions under Captain Pike. It was time she received a refit and a new crew. However, Spock had hoped to follow his captain, and was almost dismayed to find he would not be receiving a promotion, but was expected to stay with the Enterprise’s new captain in his old position of Science Officer. It wasn’t that Spock wanted the promotion; Science Officer had been his goal, and rising through the ranks for no reason was illogical. But he was unsure how he would fit in with the new crew, after having reached such a comfortable level of professional distance with the old one. The thought of redoing the whole process was not something Spock looked forward to. Especially given the new captain’s reputation. James T. Kirk was known to have the mysterious human force known as “charisma” that Spock had never been able to fully understand. He also had a reputation for being slightly informal, and capable of commanding great loyalty and affection on the parts of the crews who served under him. Someone who commanded on personal loyalty and affection was not likely to share the same reserved and stoic tendencies that Pike had cultivated. Spock fully expected the Enterprise to become an uncomfortable place for him after Kirk came aboard. To deny this was simply illogical. 

However, he couldn’t dwell on that now. With both Pike and Number One gone, it fell to Spock as ranking officer to go down to Earth to greet the new captain on behalf of the crew. Spock never liked dealing with Starfleet higher-ups; it was one of the few things he had in common with his fellow crewmembers. The addition of Captain Kirk, who was known to be an admiralty favorite, rising to the rank of captain at only age 31, only made the prospect less inviting. Spock simply wanted to fulfill his duties and return to the ship as soon as possible, try as he might to control it.

In Admiral McKinley’s office in Starfleet Headquarters, Captain James T. Kirk paced the room, feeling nervous. The euphoria of becoming captain was starting to wear off and anxiety was taking its place; Kirk knew he was capable of running a starship, but this was the flagship. The Enterprise. Known to be home to the best officers and crew Starfleet had to offer, and Kirk hoped he would be worthy of them and of the ship.

“Jim, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” McKinley said genially. “Taking over the ship is the easy part; it’s all routine and ceremony. The hard part doesn’t start until you’re out there.”

“I know,” Kirk said with a small smile. “I’ve never taken command of a starship in my own right though. I wish Gary had been able to get here sooner so we could take command together.” Gary Mitchell, who Kirk had chosen as First Officer, would be arriving in a couple of days, once his ship came into spacedock. Kirk was used to commanding a crew who knew and liked him; this was becoming a little overly formal for him. Especially because he knew the current ranking officer on the Enterprise was from Vulcan; a people known for making formality and reserve an art form.

McKinley didn’t say anything; Kirk gathered that Gary was less than popular with the Starfleet higher-ups, but he always had been, so Kirk wasn’t worried. Gary was loyal, brave, a good officer, and Kirk’s closest friend. Choosing him had been easy. The matter of the Enterprise’s Vulcan science officer kept nagging at him though. He couldn’t help being intrigued; why would a Vulcan choose to serve in Starfleet’s nearly all-human military branch? “Do you know Lieutenant Commander Spock, Admiral?”

McKinley glanced up, “I’ve met him in passing a few times. His record is spotless, Pike’s given him glowing reports since the moment he came onboard. Apparently people who know something about the sciences say he’s got one of the best scientific minds of his generation anywhere.”

“Yes, but Spock himself,” Kirk continued. “I can read his records myself, in fact, I did. But what about him?”

McKinley thought for a minute, then said, “The people who’ve served with Spock all say a lot about duty and high standards, but none of them talk about him personally. I’d say he doesn’t have that many personal or social dealings with them.”

For eleven years? Kirk couldn’t fathom that. Stuck on a starship with the same people for five years at a time; you had to get to know them and get along with at least a few, or you’d lose yourself to unbearable loneliness. Even for a Vulcan, that had to be impossible. He wasn’t sure how he would get along with someone who intended to barely talk to him outside of professional concerns for five years. In his opinion, the close quarters of a starship made too much professional reserve difficult, if not downright unhealthy, to maintain. 

Kirk’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door, which then opened to reveal a tall, thin figure wearing a blue dress uniform. The new arrival was standing so straight at attention that Kirk didn’t even need to see pointed ears to guess this was Lieutenant Commander Spock. 

“Lieutenant Commander,” McKinley said, standing up. “I take it you know this is your new captain, James T. Kirk.”

“Yes, sir. Congratulations on your command, Captain,” Spock said, looking his new commanding officer over. There was something in Kirk’s eyes that Spock noticed right away, a fierce intelligence, knack for observation and strength that would serve him well as a captain. For his part, the captain stood there quietly, allowing Spock to set the tone for this first meeting, instead of insisting on taking the lead. For someone who had often been put into uncomfortable social situations by well-meaning but largely uninformed humans, this was impressive. Spock mentally added perception to his list of Kirk’s qualities; seemingly a rare social skill outside of Vulcan.

“Commander,” Kirk said quietly. “I’m glad to be onboard, and I’m looking forward to getting to know the rest of the crew and the ship.” He made no move to shake hands, or any of the other human customs that required touch, Spock noted in the new captain’s favor. 

“The taking command ceremony will be in two standard hours, at 1500 hours,” Spock said. “You may go up to the ship now and prepare. Your belongings have already been brought aboard.”

“Well, it sounds like things are ready to go, Captain, Lieutenant Commander,” McKinley said. “All that’s left is to wish you good luck.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Kirk said, shaking his hand. “I’ll see you when we get back in five years.” Excitement started to replace the nerves. He was really on his way.

He and Spock walked through, the hallways in silence for a few minutes before Kirk asked, “Can I ask you about the previous two five-year missions? What stuck out to you about them? What were the major events?”

Spock looked at Kirk oddly, “The Enterprise’s missions are all recorded in the ship’s logs, Captain.”

Kirk smiled, “Yes, I know. I read them. I’m not trying just to make small talk. The logs tell me what happened, but there’s a lot of things that can be learned from how a crew reacts to events, which ones stick out in their minds. Those are the things that make a ship, not just the events themselves.”

Spock hesitated for an instant, “Perhaps I am not the best person to answer that question, sir. Mr. Scott-”

Kirk cut him off, “You’re the ranking officer, you’re part of this crew, and you’re someone I’m going to be working with closely. I want to know what you think. Your opinions, observations, anything.” Spock may have been a social outsider, but he was also part of the command crew and so was in a unique position to known what went on across large areas of the ship. Plus, between his record, McKinley’s assessment of his social position and what Kirk had already observed, he guessed that Spock was extremely observant, as many social outsiders often are. Combined with the logical impartiality that came with his Vulcan heritage, Spock was perfectly placed to give Kirk the best information on this.

Spock was taken aback. So few people had ever asked his opinion on anything that wasn’t directly connected to his work; let alone on something like this. Most humans would have simply assumed he had never been affected by any of the missions, misunderstanding Vulcan control of emotions as lack of emotions. He was starting to think that this Captain Kirk might be much different than what he’d heard about him. “I think most of the crew would state our missions in the Orion system to be the most difficult. Orion slavers are well known for their cruelty; seeing it in person is…unpleasant.” 

Kirk nodded; he’d read the reports but he was discovering how much tone of voice could convey; Spock’s “unpleasant” seemed to carry almost the same weight as a human overcome with emotional strain.

“Many of those missions resulted in the deaths of crew members,” Spock continued, “as well as several injuries. Captain Pike believed it was only luck that resulted in our successes.” Now his tone of voice said “modesty” to Kirk, who knew the Enterprise had succeeded in freeing more Orion slaves than any other ship in the Fleet.

That wasn’t all though; something else in Spock’s tone made Kirk look up, “You don’t believe in luck, Lieutenant Commander?”

Spock glanced over, “In my experience, dependence on random chance is illogical. There is just as much chance of success as failure. It is skill and knowledge that accounts for the difference.”

“And logic?” Kirk asked, taking on a slight teasing tone.

“Of course, Captain,” Spock answered, a slightly puzzled expression entering his eyes. “Some resourcefulness and creativity is also useful.”

They’d reached the transporter, and from there made their way through the Enterprise’s corridors until they reached Kirk’s new quarters. He could hardly stop himself from running his fingers along every wall, stopping to examine everything he could. This is my ship. She’s mine. He could hardly believe it and he thought he’d never loved anything so much in his life. It was only the reminder that Spock was walking next to him that kept him from giving in and acting like a child with a new toy.

On reaching his quarters, Kirk asked Spock inside to give him some quick instructions while he started unpacking. “I’m not requiring dress uniforms at the ceremony; they’re so uncomfortable. This is a working starship, I want her working, not on ceremony.”

“Aye, sir,” Spock answered, knowing the crew would be grateful for that.

“Ahh, here it is,” the captain said, pulling a Tri-D chess set from one of his bags. “Have to have a good spot for this, even if I never end up playing it. I don’t suppose many people will want to play against their captain, and Gary doesn’t play.” For the first time, Kirk sounded dejected, expecting the isolation of command to mean he would have fewer friendships among the crew than he was used to.

Spock’s gaze went from the chess set back to the captain. He could never account for why exactly he decided to say it, but he blurted out, “I play chess, if you need a partner, Captain.” He’d never voluntarily offered to take part in any social interaction before; indeed he usually avoided it even if asked, and couldn’t account for what was suddenly different. But Kirk gave him the first true smile of the day, and Spock couldn’t find it in himself to wipe that bright grin off the captain’s face.

“I’ll be glad to play against you, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, before Spock exited quickly. Kirk smiled to himself as he unpacked the rest of his things. Gary would be coming aboard before long, he had his ship, and it looked like he and Lieutenant Commander Spock would be getting along far better than he’d thought. He couldn’t have asked for a better start to his captaincy.


	2. Chapter 2

The two weeks it took to get to Earth after Gary Mitchell’s death were hard on everyone, but especially hard on Captain Kirk. Everywhere he went, there were reminders of his longtime friend. And the guilt of having pulled the trigger himself on top of the loss was agonizing. There was nothing Kirk wanted to do more than hide in his quarters and forget everything that had happened. 

If it hadn’t been for Spock, he was sure he wouldn’t have made it through. As interim First Officer, Spock quietly took on as many command duties as he could in addition to his own science duties. Kirk saw the amount of paperwork he had to do decrease substantially, leaving him free to work through his grief. Spock also remained in command as often as possible, allowing Kirk to sleep if he needed it, or simply to spend some time on his own. Kirk was more grateful than he could possibly say for this consideration. However, there were two duties he couldn’t get out of: returning Gary’s body to his family, and picking a new first officer. Both of these required a return to Earth, right at the beginning of the mission. 

Didn’t think we’d be back here so soon, Kirk thought as they entered orbit. He found out that Admiral Komack, Head of Starfleet Personnel, wouldn’t be available until they’d already been back for three days, so nothing could be done about getting a new first officer. Kirk was content to wait; it gave him the time to visit with the Mitchells, who had been close to Kirk as well, given their long friendship. He did this alone; hoping it gave them some small comfort to be able to hold a service for their son. It also gave Kirk time to plan his approach for something he’d been thinking about during the entire trip back to Earth.   
Spock was more than content to stay in command on the Enterprise for all this, until Kirk found him the morning of the third day. “Spock, I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“Yes, Captain?”

Kirk didn’t look like he knew how to begin. “Well, I…you know I have to choose a new first officer, and I was wondering if maybe you would want to continue on in the role.” He spoke quickly, almost as if he were nervous about Spock’s reaction. A reminder that even though Spock was now the person Kirk was closest to on the ship, they had only known each other for a few short weeks and he was still no replacement for Gary’s loss. Spock was a little surprised by how much this realization bothered him; how he wished he could be more of what Kirk needed. And how disappointed he was in his own response, which sounded cold and distant, for all that it happened to be true. 

“Captain, I am a scientist. I have no desire for command.”

“Yes, I know,” Kirk said quickly. “I don’t mean that you should give up your science duties, just add to them. Unless you don’t want to, if it’s too much, I understand.”

Spock considered the idea. It had merit, certainly. Serving as Science Officer on a human ship was not nearly strenuous enough by Vulcan standards. Adding the First Officer’s duties had not proven even as difficult as a single job on Vulcan would. 

“It’s all right, Spock, forget I asked,” Kirk said, mistaking Spock’s silence for refusal. “I’ll just ask for a replacement.” He looked so dejected, that Spock realized belatedly that Kirk had not only lost an officer but a friend, and that for him, there was no separation between the two. For Kirk to choose a new First Officer now; get used to someone he didn’t know at all, when he had fully expected to serve with a friend for the next five years and was obviously more comfortable with that, would be awkward at best.

Abruptly, Spock changed his mind, and was almost as surprised by it as he had been by his initial blunt refusal. Was he going to be making impulsive decisions because of James T. Kirk forever? “Captain, if you wish, I will certainly continue serving as First Officer as well as Science Officer.”

“Really?” Kirk’s answering smile, the first in the two weeks since Gary Mitchell’s death, could have lit up the Bridge. Spock wondered what it was about Jim Kirk that made him want to do things for him, break customs, even break out of his logical shell and be a friend for the first time in his life. “Well, in that case, all we need to do is convince Komack to promote you.”

He made it sound easy, but by the time they made it to Komack’s office it was clear he was in no mood to grant unorthodox requests.

“Captain, I appreciate what you went through, and I’m very sorry about the loss of Commander Mitchell, but there’s no precedent for allowing one officer to take two senior positions,” Komack said the instant Kirk posed the question. “No matter how…capable the officer in question might be,” the admiral added, glancing at Spock.

“Admiral, it’s the best option for the Enterprise,” Kirk argued, trying to sound as respectful as possible. “We had only just started our mission when Gary was killed; I don’t want to change the senior crew too many times if it’s possible to avoid it. The crew is used to Spock; it would be an easy transition for everyone.”

“Be that as it may, Kirk,” Komack said, sounding as if he severely doubted it, “There are many deserving officers who would jump at the chance to serve on the Enterprise. You’re keeping them out in favor of someone who isn’t even on the command track!”

Spock shifted his weight, reflecting that he seemed to be a side player in a conversation about his own future. He certainly would never have caused this much trouble over a promotion he wouldn’t have looked for on his own. Although he had to admit, now that the idea had taken hold, he was more and more intrigued by it. Not only would it offer more opportunity for hands-on exploration and leadership experience, it also meant working more closely with the captain, something Spock found himself almost eager to do. As for Kirk, it was clear he wanted Spock as his First Officer, and as Spock was capable of doing both jobs, it hardly seemed logical to protest.

“Well, I’m sorry about that, Admiral, but the purpose of a starship is to explore, to seek out new life and new experiences to the best of its ability. A starship’s best ability is only the best ability of the men and women serving aboard her, and their ability to work together. I assure you, the whole ship will work better with Spock as First Officer instead of bringing someone new in.”

Komack seemed to be struggling for an argument he could make against that, and finally sighed when he failed. “Very well, let it be noted that Lieutenant-Commander Spock will remain in the position of First Officer of the USS Enterprise in addition to his duties as Science Officer for the remainder of her five-year mission under the command of Captain James T. Kirk.”

Kirk nodded, “Thank you, Admiral.”

“You’re welcome. Just don’t make me regret it.”

As Kirk and Spock walked out of the office, Kirk turned to Spock. “That went better than I thought. Next we’ll have to get you the promotion to go with it. Can’t have my First Officer be a Lieutenant Commander instead of a full Commander!”

Spock wasn’t sure what to say beyond, “That would be logical.” What he was thinking was that no one had ever stood up for him like that before, even if it was for a cause he hadn’t initially even wanted. Certainly Pike would not have gone against regulations for him. He was starting to see that Kirk had an intense loyalty that was almost Vulcan in its depth. It was that, more than anything else, which told Spock he was correct, not only in deciding to be Kirk’s First Officer, but in this new friendship which was such unfamiliar ground to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Just when it seemed like they were finally going to get started, the crew of the Enterprise found themselves back where they started, in orbit above Earth. This time they were seeing off Dr. Piper, on his way to a well-deserved retirement from Starfleet, and picking up their new Chief Medical Officer, Dr. Leonard McCoy. Originally, the switch was supposed to take place at Starbase 5, but Doctor McCoy’s transportation had fallen through due to a malfunction, so the Enterprise had to return home. Kirk had sighed good-naturedly at the delay, but didn’t seem overly annoyed by the change. It wasn’t that far out of their way. “We seem to be making a habit of this, Mr. Spock,” the captain said with a smile, as if apologizing for the constant reshuffling back to Earth. 

“Indeed, Captain.” To Spock’s relief, Kirk didn’t try to push the conversation. The contrast between this visit and the last time they’d returned home was obvious. But then, this could not possibly have been under more different circumstances. Dr. Piper had served the Enterprise well, and would be missed, but they’d all known his departure was coming. There was a general feeling of excitement aboard; the crew instinctively feeling that the replacement of Pike’s CMO would be the final sign that the ship was now truly Kirk’s ship. Not that it didn’t already feel that way; the new captain carried himself as if he was born to be captain of the Enterprise, and the only two remaining members of Pike’s senior staff did nothing to dispel the notion.

“D’yeh know how rare it is for a captain to understand engineering?” Mr. Scott asked Spock one day as they were going over routine maintenance logs. “He did engineering as a minor specialty at the Academy! Nothing against Pike, o’course,” the engineer added quickly, knowing how Spock had served with him since his graduation. From the wide-eyed look of surprise and admiration on Scott’s face, Spock guessed that captains who truly understood engineering were, indeed, a rarity, and that Kirk had passed the only test that would matter in their chief engineer’s eyes. Two days later, when he saw the captain leaving engineering covered in plasma grease and calling cheerfully to “Scotty” that the engines were under his protection as captain, Spock knew that Captain Pike was becoming a fond memory that paled in comparison to Kirk’s blazing presence. 

As for Spock himself, he was fairly amazed at how quickly he had been swept into Kirk’s whirlwind of a life. Kirk viewed his success in having Spock promoted to First as a victory, and did everything to assure his new command partner that the success was well-deserved. Meetings over crew rotations, supply stores, Starfleet orders, which had been quick, formal conversations with Pike, turned into all night discussion sessions, ranging in topic from the latest starship designs, to the politics of the Federation, to the differences between human and Vulcan cuisine. Mealtimes, previously scheduled for when no one was in the mess hall so Spock could have some time to himself, were now scheduled around their free times together and they soon had a regular table where they could leave their chess board, still in the middle of a game, and whatever books they were discussing at the moment. Spock slipped into his new role as Kirk’s right-hand man so naturally he found himself starting to think of Pike as a comparatively distant memory, and was almost dismayed when the only reaction he could find in himself to this was a slight bewilderment as to why it didn’t bother him more. The only thing he was sure of was that whenever Kirk showed up with a new planet to explore, a new problem to solve, or simply some free time, Spock was almost able to admit to being glad that he’d chosen to take the promotion.

But now, for the second time in only a year, the senior crew of the Enterprise was about to receive another change and Spock was absolutely positively not nervous about it. It was a routine transfer; entirely logical. He’d read Dr. Leonard McCoy’s files, though, and they left him with a certain trepidation regarding the switch. The new CMO had experience and intelligence, that much was obvious. Spock knew Kirk well enough by now to know he only took the best. He’d had postings on bases as well as research positions with several populations under Starfleet observation. However, Spock knew equally as well that officers Kirk wanted to serve with were unlikely to fit into a standard mold of Starfleet Officer, and McCoy was no exception. He’d joined later than most recruits and had a record of insubordination, apparently because of his “temper and lack of respect for command hierarchy,” according to Starfleet’s personnel files. Spock was unsure if someone like that belonged on the Enterprise and said so to Kirk while they were reading through lists of potential new CMO’s. 

“Don’t worry about it, Spock,” Kirk had said. “He might be a little unorthodox, a little rougher in his methods than some people are used to nowadays, but McCoy knows what he’s doing. Best doctor I’ve ever known.” His expression softened a little, “Or is it because you think you might have trouble working with him? He is a little overemotional, by your standards. I can pick someone else, if you want.”

“Negative, Captain,” Spock said, so quickly he surprised himself. “I believe he will be a good addition to the crew.” Kirk had vouched for him after all, just as he’d vouched for Spock himself. Kirk’s opinion was something Spock trusted more and more as the weeks went on.

Kirk smiled, “Good. He’s an old friend of mine, so I hope we’ll all be able to get along. I’ve known him for about ten years now.” 

That fact, more than anything else, was why Spock remained slightly uncertain. He’d only just started allowing himself to become used to the idea of Kirk as his friend, against all his Vulcan judgment, and this slow, hesitant friendship had only now begun to blossom in the absence of any of Kirk’s longtime human friends. Now McCoy would be here, undoubtedly capable of being more of a friend to Kirk than any Vulcan ever could. While Spock did not see Kirk simply dropping him, he did anticipate a change in their relationship. Or at least a return to what things had been when Gary Mitchell was alive; Spock a convenient chess partner, but always on the outside. In a way he was relieved; at least he would be able to return to his professional detachment rather than enter the uncharted waters of human friendship. But underneath, Spock almost dreaded losing the tenuous connection he and Kirk were establishing. 

“Ah, Captain, Lieutenant Commander,” Admiral Komack came in to Starfleet HQ’s transporter room, followed by a thin man with red hair and wide blue eyes. “I’d like to introduce your new CMO, Dr. Leonard McCoy.”

“We’ve met,” Kirk said with a smile. “Bones!”

“Jim!” McCoy said enthusiastically. “How’s the ship treating you?”

“Just fine, Bones,” Kirk answered. Spock glanced at him sideways, and Kirk laughed softly as he guessed what was going through Spock’s mind.

“Sawbones is an old nickname for military doctors on Earth, because they used to have to do amputations more than anything else. Sawing through bones.”

Spock’s eyebrow rose of its own accord. Humans. Using a reference to the horrors in their past as an affectionate nickname. Utterly illogical.

“This is my First Officer, Mr. Spock,” Kirk was saying to McCoy, “Spock, this is Dr. Leonard McCoy.”

“Doctor,” Spock inclined his head.

“Hmm,” McCoy said. “You’re the one Jim’s been talking about nonstop for the past year.” 

Spock concealed his surprise – the Captain was talking about him? – to say “Welcome to the Enterprise, Doctor McCoy.”

“Well, thank you. I’m still not sure this ship, though,” McCoy said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve served on a starship and people weren’t meant to be in a can for five years.”

“Doctor, do you not have a psychology specialization in the effects on long-term space travel on the human psyche?” Spock asked. “Surely a five-year mission is the ideal situation to study such effects.” Someone who chose to study the psychological effects of space travel needed to travel in space to truly understand it. It was only logical.

“Sure do,” McCoy said. “Means I know exactly what it does to you and I never thought I’d end up in one of these things again. Jim’s very persuasive.” 

“Well, we’re lucky to have you,” Kirk said, just as Spock started to say how illogical he found McCoy’s thought process on this issue.

“Illogical?” McCoy asked, sounding indignant and completely ignoring Kirk. “Are you really gonna tell me all about how you think I’m ‘illogical,’ Mr. Spock?” He glanced at Kirk, as if asking “where did you find this guy?”

“Relax, Bones,” Kirk said, looking for the first time as if he regretted putting the two of them on the same senior crew. He glanced at Spock apologetically. 

“I find that humans are usually illogical,” Spock answered McCoy. “It is a fascinating study.”

“Well, you’re not gonna be getting any “fascinating study” out of me,” McCoy said as they positioned themselves on the transporter pad, Admiral Komack having scurried out of the room as quickly as he could.

“On the contrary, Doctor, your arrival will add greatly to it, since I have never encountered as much illogic in one place prior to today,” Spock said, before being shocked at his own daring. Was he really sniping with the ship’s new CMO, the captain’s old friend on top of that? He glanced at Kirk, sure that he’d be written up for insubordination, only to find the captain trying very hard not to burst out laughing while McCoy started to splutter in response. 

Satisfied that Kirk wasn’t viewing this as disrespect, Spock did his best to look dignified as he left the transporter room to return to duty, but the arrival of McCoy introduced a volatile element into their stable starship crew, one that he was not entirely sure he welcomed. Only then did he put together that when Kirk had offered not to choose McCoy as CMO if Spock objected to his presence, it meant that Kirk would have turned down bringing an old friend aboard simply to ensure Spock’s comfort in his position. And he realized he had nothing at all to worry about.

Except making sure he always had a retort ready; McCoy looked as if he’d be keeping Spock “on his toes” for the next few years.


	4. Chapter 4

“Are you sure he’s up to this?” Kirk asked McCoy for the tenth time in the last ten minutes, looking anxiously at Peter Kirk.

McCoy responded with practiced patience, “Jim, I told you, physically, he’s fine. There are no ill effects from the Denevan parasite. Emotionally, now that’s another story. But he’s been living in this tragedy since we left Deneva, every other minute someone was either making him take more medical tests, or asking him how he was doing. He’s barely been out of sickbay since he got here! Trust me, at his age, it’ll be better to give this whole episode an ending. And a beginning, with your parents.”

“You’re the doctor, I should trust you?” Kirk asked, shifting his dress uniform unnecessarily. 

McCoy shrugged, “More like, I’m a parent and you’re not. If you don’t allow him to go to the memorial service, it’ll haunt him for the rest of his life.”  
“You’re right,” Kirk said, giving up on making the hated dress uniform more comfortable. “You’ll be there?”

“Only to explain to your parents about the physical and emotional trauma Peter went through, so they know what they need to do,” McCoy said adamantly. “I wish we could have gotten here earlier; I feel like I’m intruding.”

They’d been delayed in their return to Earth due to some technical malfunctions for the past couple of weeks, and had several important missions coming up. They only had two days on Earth to hold the memorial service. Kirk waved a hand, “Don’t worry about it, Bones, they understand. Besides, my mother has been dying to meet any member of my crew she can. Actually, that reminds me…” Kirk trailed off and started walking down the corridor.

Spock, not knowing what else to do to help the captain, had settled for simply doing his duty, above and beyond what was required of him. If it was the easy way out; for instance, if it allowed him to avoid the captain by saying he would take Kirk’s shift in addition to his own, well, it was justified. Spock was capable of working multiple shifts one after another; Kirk needed time alone to grieve his brother and sister-in-law, and to spend some time with his now orphaned nephew. Spock wouldn’t know what to do anyway, what to say, how to express sympathy in a way that didn’t seem unbearably distant by human standards or simply awkward. It was better by far to let McCoy handle this particular tragedy, and for the first and hopefully only time, Spock was grateful McCoy was aboard. He almost shuddered to think of how much worse this would be if Kirk had been left with only Spock in this situation. No, this was one instance where being the odd one out was no hardship.

“Spock!’ Kirk caught up with his First Officer as he was leaving the bridge, having handed command over to Scotty. “Aren’t you coming to the memorial service? It’s in half an hour, McCoy and I are heading to the transporter now.”

“Captain, I have no desire to intrude on your family’s grief,” Spock said quickly. Too quickly. Memories of his human grandparents’ funerals played across his mind. They were some of the few occasions Spock had been overly aware of the species gap between himself and his mother, who had spent the days crying with her sisters and cousins, while Spock stood awkwardly to one side, knowing everyone was staring at him, mistaking the Vulcan customs for honoring the dead as lack of feeling. “Surely Doctor McCoy’s presence will be sufficient to explain what happened,” he added helplessly, knowing he was fighting a losing battle.

“Spock, you won’t be,” Kirk’s expression grew slightly hurt. “I’d like you to be there too. You saved Peter’s life, you know, by finding out how to kill that thing. My mother wants to thank you.”

Seeing Spock’s stoic expression, Kirk relented. “You don’t have to come to the ceremony if you’ll really be that uncomfortable. But beam down with us? My parents really do want to thank you personally.”

Ten minutes later, Spock had been stuffed into his dress uniform and was standing next to Kirk on the transporter pad. Peter Kirk was on the captain’s other side, looking subdued. “Poor kid, his grandparents lived so far away I think he’s only met them once before,” McCoy whispered to Spock as they stepped off the pad in Riverside, Iowa. Kirk and his nephew were busy greeting Kirk’s parents, and Spock stepped aside to give them time.

“No, you don’t,” Kirk said, gesturing Spock forward. “Mom, Dad, this is my First Officer, Mr. Spock. He and Dr. McCoy here are the ones who found out how to kill that thing, you know.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Kirk,” Spock said, inclining his head.

“Please, call me Winona,” Mrs. Kirk said. “Jim said you almost died yourself trying to figure out how to kill it.”

“He made it sound like a real threat to the Federation,” George Kirk added.

Spock latched on to Mr. Kirk’s statement, “Yes, if we had not stopped it, the parasite would be heading for Earth at this moment.” 

“We were lucky to stop it when we did,” McCoy said, as they walked down the street.

Spock was about to say that luck had nothing to do with it, before he thought better of starting an argument with McCoy in front of Kirk’s parents at such an occasion. But Winona got there before him.

“It doesn’t sound much like luck, Doctor McCoy. More like good old-fashioned scientific research.” She shrugged, “Or Jim just knows how to pick the right people for his crew. Either way, I’m grateful. Peter’s alive because of you.” 

McCoy seemed to squirm at her words, no doubt remembering how his lack of planning nearly resulted in Spock going blind, but said nothing. There was no use remaindering anyone of that; today was going to be hard enough on everyone as it was.

“So, your Uncle Jim tells me you’re learning to play chess?” George Kirk said to Peter, in an effort to draw him out of his shell. For the first time, the boy started to smile.

“Yeah, Spock’s teaching me. He says I’m pretty good!”

“You play?” George Kirk said, turning to Spock.

“Indeed. Your grandson is a promising player,” Spock said. Peter had clearly inherited the Kirk gene for thinking outside the box; with a little training he would be a masterful player.

“And how’s my son as a player?” George asked with a smile. “He says you play together a lot in his communiques. I taught him chess myself, you know?”

“He is a challenging opponent,” Spock said truthfully. There were few humans who played chess as well as Jim Kirk; the fact that he and Spock often ended in a draw was testament to his abilities.

“I’ll challenge you to a game after the service,” George said to Spock. “Just to see if you’re really as difficult an opponent as Jim says.”

Spock glanced at the captain, who suddenly became very interested in the trees lining the sidewalk. “I told them McCoy and I would stay for dinner. I didn’t know they’d take that to mean you would too. You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Really.”

There was nothing in captain’s voice or expression to suggest he’d be disappointed if Spock left now, one of the reasons he found Kirk so easy to get along with. There was never any pressure to do anything he was uncomfortable with, just complete and utter acceptance of Spock exactly as he was. Nonetheless, Spock turned to George Kirk.

“I accept.”

“I made sure to make my famous vegetable lasagna,” Winona Kirk said as they sat down to dinner after the service. “All our own vegetables, from the farm. It was a good harvest this year.”

“It looks like it, I’m sorry I missed it,” Jim said. 

“There’s nothing like farm-fresh produce,” McCoy said. “I remember my grandmother used to grow eggplants the size of which you wouldn’t believe.”

“Vulcan doesn’t have very many native plants, does it?” Winona Kirk asked Spock, who pulled himself out of contemplating how his human grandmother had made almost this exact dish every time he visited her to answer.

“No, the climate is too arid to achieve the variety of plants Earth has. The few plants we do cultivate produce food, but the multiple dishes can be made from the same plant. My mother became something of an expert on Vulcan horticulture and cuisine.” He remembered the garden his mother had carefully cultivated on the grounds of their house and wondered fleetingly if she still kept up with it.

Jim and McCoy barely hid their expressions of shock; Spock very rarely mentioned his childhood, and they’d taken that as an example and never asked. Nonplussed, Spock went on, “Many humans, however, find most Vulcan dishes bland to their tastes. My mother spent many years trying to find a perfect balance between the two.”

“Hmm,” George Kirk surveyed Spock with interest. “She must be a remarkable woman. It’s never been easy to strike that particular balance.”  
“I am very aware of that, sir,” Spock answered dryly, causing Jim to grin quickly at him across the table. 

Two hours later, Spock and George Kirk were embroiled in an extremely close chess match, watched by Jim and Peter Kirk, both wide-eyed, while McCoy and Winona discussed Peter’s ordeal in the kitchen.

“Check in two,” George said to Spock, who moved his queen over one space in response.

“Check in three.”

“They’re perfectly matched,” Peter whispered to Jim. 

“Check in four.”

“Check in two.”

“I told you my dad was good,” Jim said to Peter. “A few years of him teaching you, and you’ll be able to beat Spock too.”

“You don’t win every time, Captain,” Spock said, never taking his eyes off the chessboard, and Jim smiled sheepishly.

“OK, most of the time.” 

After another hour, George Kirk gave up. “Jim was right, you’re very good. Call it a draw?”

“Agreed. Thank you for a diverting game.”

George shook his head, “You’re good for him. It’s good for him to have someone around he doesn’t always win against, right, Jim? Come on, Peter, let me show you your room.” He left with Peter at his heels, looking much more comfortable than he had that morning.

“I guess you passed the dad test. And the mom test, for that matter,” Jim said to Spock.

“The ‘dad’ test?” Spock asked.

Jim shrugged, “My parents like you, and McCoy. It’s obvious. So what do you think? Have I lost some of my aura now that you see how ordinary they are?” He grinned to show he was joking, but Spock thought for a minute before answering.

“They are very much like you.” Looking at his family, it was easy to see where Kirk had gotten his curiosity, open-mindedness and strength of will. 

“Well, I’m glad they passed your test. Now I can rest,” Kirk said, a teasing tone in his voice. “Doctor, come on, we have to go.”

“Leading already?” Winona Kirk said, coming up to Jim and hugging him. “I wish we could have seen you under better circumstances. You will be careful out there?” For the first time, worry entered her eyes. 

“I promise,” Jim answered.

“Look out for him, OK?” she said, directly to Spock. She lowered her voice to a mock-whisper. “I know he gets reckless, can I trust you to pull him back when he goes too far?”

Spock had no idea how to answer this and glanced at Jim, who said, “Always, Mom. Spock keeps me in line. And Bones puts us back together again. We’re a team.”

Winona nodded, “Good. Space is too big for you to be on your own. I’m glad he has you two.” She stood in the doorway of the big old farmhouse, waving until they left.

“Thank you for dinner,” McCoy added, as they left the house, heading out to the fields for their beam-up.

“So, Spock, are you going to pull me back if I go too far?” Kirk asked, barely containing his laughter. 

“Now you know if you do something stupid, he’ll be right there behind you, if only to make sure you don’t get yourself killed,” McCoy said, and even Spock had to concede that this was far closer to the truth. 

“So will you, Bones, don’t bother denying it,” Kirk said. “We’re a team now, right? That’s how it works.” He pulled out his communicator to beam them back to the Enterprise.

McCoy looked disgruntled, possibly because he knew it was true, that for some reason they would follow Jim Kirk to hell and back if he needed them to. Spock’s thoughts stayed with the word “team.” It was correct, he realized. They’d become a team and he hadn’t even noticed. What was more, he didn’t even mind. The formation of a trio didn’t mean that the duo he and Kirk had formed was gone. It was an addition, and one that felt natural, against everything he’d thought when McCoy had first come aboard. 

It was odd to think how all of this happened because Spock hadn’t followed Captain Pike as he’d planned. Perhaps things going according to plan wasn’t always the best option, as illogical as that sounded.


	5. Chapter 5

“Permission to disembark?” Admiral Kirk asked Admiral Nogura.

“Permission granted,” Nogura said, and Kirk stepped off the transporter pad, Spock right behind him. The end of their second five-year mission could not have been more different than the end to the first. Kirk had arrived to his end-of-mission debriefing on that occasion alone, having only just found out that his First Officer had resigned from Starfleet and taken the first transport back to Vulcan without so much as a goodbye. Rashly, Kirk had decided to accept the promotion to admiral and the desk job that came with it, unable to picture himself commanding a second mission without his crew, even though he knew it was the farthest thing from what he wanted. Kirk remembered being angry; angry that he was losing his ship, angry that Spock had left without a word, angry that McCoy had tried to interfere with his career and keep him in the captain’s chair. But the overwhelming emotion connected with the end of that mission was grief; at the mission’s end, at the loss of the two people closest to him, and an almost unbearable loneliness.

Not this time. This time, if either Spock or McCoy chose to leave to pursue other things, they’d do it with Kirk as a friend. Neither one had left yet, and Kirk couldn’t help feeling hopeful about the future, even if it was a future without the Enterprise in it.

“How did your second tour treat you?” Nogura asked, leading them into the debriefing room.

“Fine,” Kirk said. “But I think we’re all ready for a change, don’t you think, Spock?”

“Affirmative,” Spock said. He’d calculated years ago that he could afford to give more time to a subordinate position on a starship than a human officer could, and the twenty years that he’d served on the Enterprise should be sufficient to allow him to move to any position of his choosing. His new, more balanced mindset prevented the near panic that had sent him back to Vulcan at the end of the previous mission, but he was still more anxious than he wanted to let on. He’d served nowhere but the Enterprise since graduating from the Academy. He had only served with two commanding officers, and even now that he had been promoted to captain himself, had no interest in leading a crew. At least not on a deep-space mission. 

“Never thought I’d see the day when you’d willingly give up the Enterprise,” Nogura said. “I’ll just go round up the other admirals.” He left them in the small conference room, still captain and first officer for the next few minutes.

Once he left, Kirk turned to Spock, “ ‘Never thought he’d see the day.’ Did he think I’d be commanding a starship when I’m ninety? Well, you might be. You’ll be barely middle-aged by then.” That was something they’d become more and more aware of during the last mission; Kirk and McCoy were aging, quickly, while Spock was barely entering the prime of his life. It wasn’t something any of them wanted to think about; that when Kirk and McCoy were old men, Spock would only be starting on his second century. It was an odd age gap that did nothing to weaken their bond, but reminded them all that it couldn’t last forever.

Spock raised an eyebrow. He knew Kirk was only teasing, just as he knew that if anyone could still command a starship at ninety, it would be Kirk, “As I have said many times, I have no desire to command a starship on a five-year mission.” 

“So what are you going to do after this, Spock?” Kirk asked, leaning against a table. “You must have had offers?” His tone of voice was casual, but Spock knew the subject was bound to come up. Aside from McCoy, who’d declared months ago that he was “stayin’ on Earth and there’s nothin’ you can do to stop me!” none of them had discussed their future plans, unwilling to admit that this would most likely be their final mission together. 

Spock kept his voice carefully controlled, “I have been offered a research position in the Centauri system, as well as the captaincy of a science vessel.”

“Those are both good options,” Kirk said, determined to sound pleased. He wasn’t going to stand in the way of any well-deserved promotion. He wasn’t. It was only the Centauri system, it wasn’t the end of the universe. 

Spock said. “There is also need for a captain to train senior cadets on the Academy starship.”

“I thought you didn’t want to command a starship?” Kirk asked.

“This would not be in deep space,” Spock said. “Officially, it is a teaching position at Starfleet Academy and the ship would only go on short training missions.”

“Well, you have a lot of experience, and your scientific background would be a plus. Those kids could stand to learn a lot from you,” Kirk said thoughtfully. “But didn’t Starfleet scrap their training starship a few months back? It was pretty ancient; I think Admiral April trained on it.”

“They did,” Spock confirmed, carefully not looking at Kirk. “They have acquired a new one.” He glanced toward the Enterprise, visible on the viewscreens. He wasn’t sure how Kirk would react, the admiral loved the Enterprise and hadn’t really wanted to give it up even after this last tour.

“You mean you’d be in command of the Enterprise?” Kirk asked, his eyes widening as the realization dawned on him. “Spock, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

Spock raised one eyebrow in acknowledgment of the shock of this statement, “Admiral, I was under the impression that you would be unhappy the Enterprise would no longer be a full part of the exploration fleet.”

Kirk waved a hand, “Well, sure, but I’d rather she go to you than anyone else. You deserve it, old friend. If you want it, that is.”

“In that case, thank you, Admiral,” Spock said. “I am…seriously considering it.” In his own mind, Spock had nearly accepted the position. Being able to stay on the Enterprise was a large factor in his decision; it truly was more his home that anywhere else in the universe. In addition, Spock had always found immense satisfaction in mentoring young officers, like Commander Chekov; teaching was merely an expansion of that and he felt he would be well suited for it. There were many logical reasons to take the position; there was only one more thing he needed to know before he accepted. “What are your career plans, Admiral?” 

Kirk flushed red and avoided looking at Spock, “Well, you know how much I hated being on Earth last time around.” When Spock didn’t say anything, he went on, “But this time…you know McCoy is going on to teach at the Academy? They…offered me my old position of Head of Operations back. I thought I might take it, now that I know I won’t be alone here.” He looked down. Neither of them liked to bring up the two years they’d spent apart, too aware that the second chance they’d been given was an unexpected gift that shouldn’t be wasted going over past hurts.

Spock avoided the admiral’s gaze as well. No matter how much he tried to deny it, the terrible time they’d all had after the end of the first mission was due to him. McCoy too, but Spock knew it was mostly his fault. They both knew Kirk’s greatest fear was being alone, consumed by his need to explore, to push the boundaries of the possible as well as by the isolation that life in Starfleet could mean. And the first thing they both had done was leave the instant the mission was over, leaving Kirk alone in a situation where they knew he’d be deeply unhappy. He wasn’t the only one who had suffered; all three of them had been isolated and cut off from the self-contained support system they had formed aboard the Enterprise, but Kirk was the one who hadn’t had any choice in the matter. That time Spock had spent trying to attain Kohlinar was the greatest regret of his life. He knew Kirk must have truly been affected by it if he was taking back the hated admiral’s job because he knew he’d be assured of a friend’s presence. Nothing could be done to change the past, but the future was still theirs to shape… 

“In that case, I will tell Starfleet I accept their offer,” Spock answered, sure, now that he knew Kirk was staying, that his place was on Earth as well. “If you do not mind, Admiral?” 

Kirk’s face lit up with a smile. “Mind? Spock, I’d be thrilled if you were to stay too. I just don’t want you to take it only because of me – Earth isn’t your home planet, I don’t want you stuck here because of me.”

“Admiral,” Spock said, cutting him off. “The Starfleet Academy position was my first choice. I was merely waiting to determine if I would be alone on Earth with only Doctor McCoy.” 

To anyone else, he seemed completely serious. Kirk, however, could determine the slight change in tone that meant Spock was joking and he almost laughed out loud, “Well, Mr. – Captain – Spock. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone on an alien planet with only Dr. McCoy for company.”

“For that, I am grateful, Admiral.”


	6. Chapter 6

Kirk braced himself. He had to pull himself together; they still had the debriefing to go through, and it was anything but routine. His entire bridge crew had to be there and multiple admirals would be in attendance.

That was the protocol for when a captain was lost in the line of duty.

But no matter how hard he tried to keep his thoughts in some kind of order, most of his mind was stuck on the empty space next to him. It had been like this since the Mutara Nebula, since the loss that he refused to talk about. Couldn’t talk about. Spock’s empty space followed Kirk everywhere; to the Mess Hall, the Observation Deck, the bridge, here on the transporter pad. There was nowhere that didn’t bring with it some reminder of Spock’s absence. It was the little things that were the hardest. Kirk had expected the funeral to be almost unbearably painful. He’d known speaking to Sarek and Amanda over subspace would be the worst conversation he would ever have. But the first time he’d seen their chessboard in its usual spot in the Mess Hall; he hadn’t expected that to be the emotional equivalent of a punch in the face. This was repeated every time he looked back at the Science station, out of habit, resulting in too many times when he slipped and called Chekov Spock. Each time, Kirk gruffly called everyone to attention and carried on without a word, essentially distancing himself from everyone. He couldn’t stand the sympathy he would get otherwise, that was the worst reminder of all. 

“Jim,” Admiral Nogura was there to meet them. His eyes widened at Kirk’s appearance. Kirk supposed it was unprofessional to look so disorganized. He didn’t really care. Nogura’s eyes moved from Kirk to McCoy, at Kirk’s left shoulder, keeping a close watch on Kirk in spite of his own tenuous mental state. The space at Kirk’s right shoulder had been left respectfully empty, by a crew who couldn’t comprehend of anyone other than Spock standing there. Behind him, in a line, stood Scotty, Chekov and Uhura, all of whom had to give evidence at the debriefing, none of whom would have left Kirk alone to do such a duty. “The conference room is this way,” Nogura said, recovering himself and starting to walk down the corridor. 

Kirk didn’t move, lost in trying to prepare his statement. I should have done this ahead of time, he thought. But he’d hadn’t even been able to talk about this with McCoy, let alone at a formal hearing with three admirals. “That way, Admiral,” Scotty whispered to Kirk from behind, and Kirk snapped back to the present, following Nogura into the conference room. He gave Scotty a small nod in thanks and then looked up find Admiral Nogura taking his seat at the table next to two other admirals.

Admiral Cartwright got up as they came in, “Hello, Jim. I wish this was under better circumstances. But you know that the loss of a captain requires a panel of admirals.” Kirk flinched as if he’d been hit at this statement, and next to him, Scotty and McCoy glared at Cartwright, who at least had the decency to look ashamed. He sat back down and glanced at Admirals Nogura and Komack, as if hoping for one of them to help get this started.

Admiral Komack cleared his throat. “Before we start, I’d like to extend my personal condolences, as well as all of Starfleet’s, to Admiral Kirk. I know Captain Spock was a friend of yours.” Kirk nearly laughed. A friend of his. “Friends” seemed to be such a devaluation of what they truly had been – brothers of the soul rather than of the blood.

Receiving no response, Komack moved on, “We do need a full, eyewitness report. Your mission report was…scattered, and seemed incomplete in places.” He looked up at Kirk, waiting for him to start. Kirk met his gaze angrily. Of course the report seemed incomplete; he’d rushed through it, wanting only to get the important events down and move on. Each word he wrote burned the events deeper into his memory. 

“With all due respect, sirs, can we not do this later?” Scotty burst out, glaring at all three of them. Kirk could almost feel Chekov and Uhura agreeing with him, even though he couldn’t see them. 

“I’m sorry, Commander Scott,” Admiral Nogura said. “But it’s best we get through all this now, rather than later.”

Kirk held up a hand, “All right. I’d rather do it now too.” He took a breath and launched into the story. “Fifteen years ago we discovered a ship called the Botany Bay…” 

It took almost two hours to tell the whole story, even leaving out the irrelevant details about Kirk’s personal connection with Carol and David Marcus. He almost wished they would issue him some kind of punishment for taking it on himself to exile Khan to Ceti Alpha V. Whether they did or not, he had never regretted anything so much in his life. That was the worst part; this was all his fault. None of this would have happened if Kirk had just made one decision differently fifteen years earlier. He pushed the guilt down, forcing himself to make it to the end. 

“Khan knew he’d lost, so he set the Genesis device to explode. I asked David what he could do to stop it, and he said that once the device was started, there was no way to stop it. Our engines weren’t functional; there was no way we could get out of there. Until suddenly, they started working again. I didn’t question it; I just got us out of there as fast as I could. We missed the explosion by only a few seconds.” Up to this point, Kirk had maintained a calm detachment that was almost eerie to watch. Now, though, he took a shaky breath and blinked hard to keep going.

“I called Engineering to congratulate Scotty on getting us out of there and Dr. McCoy told me I should get down there, and that I should hurry. I turned around and that’s when I realized that Spock-” Kirk looked down, his voice catching as he spoke. “He saved us all. Please don’t make me live it again.”

Komack looked as if he wanted very much to hear the full story, but Nogura held up his hand. “All right, Jim. I think we got all the important details. Thank you. I know that was difficult.”

Kirk nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Even though they hadn’t made him relate the worst of it; he couldn’t help remembering it anyway. The scene in Engineering played out in his head with merciless precision, making sure he’d never forget a second of it. Kirk knew that scenes of Spock behind that glass barrier would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life. They filed out of the conference room in silence, all of them watching Kirk to see what he would do. He didn’t know. He wanted to be alone with his grief. He never wanted to be alone again. He needed to be with people, to know that life went on, but he felt isolated, as if years of being part of a duo and trio had so affected him that the absence of one of the members felt like a physical separation from society. And underneath it all, the fear and uncertainty of having to go through life without that calm, steady presence that he’d always known he could depend on. This was his worst fear made real; he was truly alone for the first time in decades, even in his own head, where he couldn’t forget what had happened, or that he was to blame for it.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Gary Mitchell isn't canonically considered First Officer, but I think enough things are different in Where No Man Has Gone Before from the rest of TOS to make the argument that he was (I don't take anything said behind the scenes as canon). It's always made more sense to me that way, anyway, and it's an idea I like to play with.


End file.
